Rebuilding Their Lives: Seventh Year
by LeftToBurn
Summary: After the war, Hermione returns to Hogwarts to complete her education. She seems to have everything: success, glory, and fame. Yet she has trouble sleeping and has taken to wandering the castle at night. When she meets Draco during one of her wanderings, will she be willing to take risks, or will she walk the safe path?
1. Midnight Wanderings

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am not making profit off of Rowling's amazing work.**

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"_Crucio_!"

"_No_!" Hermione screamed, sitting straight up in bed. Bellatrix's maniacal laughter echoed in her head as she looked blearily at her surroundings. As usual, it took her a few seconds to realize that she was safe in her bed in Gryffindor Tower

In the bed next to hers, Ginny groaned and rolled over. "Nightmares again?" she asked, her voice heavy with sleep.

The other girls in the seventh year girls' dormitory slept on. They had all taken to casting a silencing charm around Hermione since she woke up screaming most nights. Only Ginny insisted on having her sleep interrupted. The redhead always woke up to comfort her friend.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," Hermione whispered. She always felt dreadful when Ginny woke up with her, but as always, Ginny brushed it off.

"I'd rather be here for you than sleep," she said kindly. "Anyways, this is just my way of thanking you for helping me prepare for my N.E.W.T.s."

Hermione sent her best friend a grateful look. She sat up, knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night, and gazed out the window. It was a beautiful October night – around three o'clock, the quietest time of the day. No birds, no wind, no crickets, no laughing students. Just silence.

She loved the silence. It reminded her of the library, her favorite place in the world. It cleared her head and helped her think. It was moments like this that kept her sane. Sometimes everything still felt so unreal to the young witch who had been on the run for most of the previous year.

From the slow and steady breathing next to her, she knew that Ginny had fallen back asleep. She turned her head and smiled softly, looking at her friend. Ginny looked so calm, the complete opposite of the fiery lioness that she was when awake.

Hermione thought back to the letter she had received from Hogwarts a few months ago. It offered her the opportunity to finish her education. She had gladly accepted. And so, although she was already eighteen years old, she had enrolled as a seventh year. She wasn't the only one. The second wizarding war had interrupted the education of many students. Therefore, all students had the option to repeat their year. Most students had chosen to repeat, although a few, such as Ginny, had decided to advance, which is why they were now both considered seventh years and studying for their N.E.W.T.s.

Some participants in the war, such as Harry and Ron, had been offered the chance to train as Aurors without having taken their N.E.W.T.s. She thought this was silly – while Harry and Ron definitely had their fair share of battlefield experience, they were severely lacking in other areas, especially Potions and Transfiguration. However, she respected their decision, even if she didn't agree. She wondered how they were doing in the rigorous Auror training – she hadn't heard anything from them for the last four months.

She missed them. Hogwarts wasn't quite the same without Harry and Ron. She shook her head, then quietly climbed out of her bed. She knew that she shouldn't be making a habit of wandering around the castle at night, but she did not want to stay sleepless in her bed for the next four hours until breakfast.

She dressed quickly. Her eyes landed on her Head Girl badge, and she sighed, reminded of Draco Malfoy. He had been appointed Head Boy; apparently, they were the most trustworthy among the students of their age who had returned to Hogwarts. He had been nothing but polite to her so far this year, which threw her off balance. She was so accustomed to him being a git and calling her a Mudblood that it was strange seeing him act like a proper human being.

She pinned her badge to her robe, then padded out of the seventh year girls' dormitory and down the stairs. Gently, she pushed open the portrait so the Fat Lady wouldn't wake up.

In the hallway, she pulled out her wand and cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself. She shivered as the magic settled on her skin, and then looked down, making sure she was completely invisible. And then she began slowly walking down the hall.

She never knew quite where she was going. But she was always pleasantly surprised. Hogwarts held so many memories for her that it was impossible to wander the halls without recalling some adventure that she, Harry, and Ron had gotten themselves involved in.

There was the closet where they hid in their third year when they used the time turner to save Sirius. And to her right was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where she had brewed Polyjuice Potion in her second year. And the window to her left overlooked the Quidditch fields, where she had spent many hours watching Harry and Ron fly…

He was so still that she almost walked right by him. He stood in the arch of one of the windows, leaning against it, looking out into the night. She recognized him immediately; the blonde hair, the tall frame, the relaxed posture that screamed wealth and status and power.

She glanced at her watch. Why was he up at four o'clock in the morning? Of course, she was wandering about as well. She couldn't fault him for being restless.

Before she realized what she had done, she was leaning with her back against the other side of the arch, facing him. He had his eyes closed, but suddenly he seemed to startle awake. His eyes darted around suspiciously, but skimmed right over her. She smiled; of course her Disillusionment Charm had held strong.

"Who's there?" he called out, his voice low. She stayed still. He reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. Hermione froze and her smile faded. Shit.

"_Finite Incantatum_," he murmured, swirling his wand in a slow circle.

She felt her spell lifting off her skin with a soft sound, like the rustle of silk.

And she was revealed.

His face was unreadable. When they were children, his face seemed to wear a permanent sneer. But Hermione suddenly realized that she hadn't seen him sneer in a very long time. In fact, she hadn't seen him show much emotion at all.

He gave her a small, polite nod. "Granger," he acknowledged.

She nodded back. "Malfoy," she said.

He leaned back against the arch. They were now facing each other. His grey eyes looked almost dark in the dim light of the torches on the wall, although occasionally when the flames flickered, she was able to see a pale grey flash.

She observed him, just as he was observing her. She saw the rings under his eyes, and knew that they mirrored her own.

"How are you," said Draco, his voice barely louder than a whisper. His tone was flat; his words came out more like a statement than a question.

"Alright. You?" she whispered back.

"You look like shit."

An urge to snap at him rose inside of her, but she quickly swallowed her quick retort. He watched her carefully – was that a hint of a smirk? – but he also had a haggard look on his face. He looked older and more tired than his eighteen years.

"You do too," she replied. And it wasn't an insult. It was just a statement of fact.

He chuckled. Hermione almost flinched. She hadn't heard him laugh in far too long.

It had been a month since they had started their duties as Head Boy and Head Girl. And they hadn't said a word more than necessary to each other. Talking like this, in private, at night with their guard down, was something new to both of them.

"Do you wander the halls at night often?" said Draco.

The tone of his voice was carefully polite, yet very casual. It was almost as if he didn't really care whether she answered the question or not. Yet his eyes remained fixed on hers, as if he cared very much. _Mixed signals_, she thought.

"Almost every night," she whispered.

He finally looked away from her, and gazed out the window again. The silence stretched.

"Me too," he finally said.

Hermione was surprised that she hadn't bumped into him before. But then again, Hogwarts was very large.

And slowly, quietly, over the next few hours, they chatted. A year ago, if anyone had told Hermione that she would be talking to Draco Malfoy like this, she would have laughed in their faces and told them to go to hell. But now, she felt far too tired to care.

Surprisingly, he was a very good listener and easy to talk to. Even when he asked sensitive questions, his tone remained politely disinterested. But his body language told a different story - he never once turned away from her. Hermione never felt pressured to answer anything, yet she knew that she had his full and undivided attention.

"Do you have nightmares too?" said Draco.

"Most nights," she whispered.

"What about?"

She shivered. "I'd rather not talk about it."

And he didn't press the issue, instead changing the subject.

"Are you and Weasley still together?"

"We never ended things. But I haven't talked to him in months. Because of Auror training. He'll get a short break for Christmas. I guess we'll see how it goes from there. How about you and Parkinson?"

"We broke up last year. She cheated on me. Evidently being a Death Eater took too much attention away from our relationship," he said dryly.

She was intrigued that he would refer so openly to being on the Dark side of the war. "Really? What was it like, being a Death Eater?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," he said, gently turning the conversation again. She let him; after all, he had offered her the same courtesy.

When the first ray of sunlight peeked over the Quidditch fields, Draco stretched, his long limbs unfolding gracefully.

"See you at the prefects' meeting at five o'clock," he said.

She nodded and smiled. For the first time in a long while, she felt completely rested and calm. She walked back to Gryffindor Tower, finally feeling ready to start her day.

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**Thank you for reading! Please review.**


	2. The Prefects' Meeting

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am not making profit off of Rowling's amazing work.**

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At exactly five o'clock, Hermione called the prefects to attention. Draco stood on the other side of the room with his arms crossed, watching her as she presented the agenda and went over the first few bullet points on her list. Like her mentor, Professor McGonagall, she had the gift of commanding attention without effort. She was a strong woman. A smart woman. A fascinating woman.

His parents would be horrified if they knew that he was even _thinking_ of a Mudblood in any positive terms. But then again, ever since he had been given his impossible assignment to kill Dumbledore, he had cared less and less about what his parents think. After all, it was their bloody fault that he was dragged before the Dark Lord, like a sacrificial lamb, ready for slaughter.

Oh, he still loved his parents. His chest tightened at the memory of the Dark Lord threatening their lives. However, he had lost his trust in them. They were no longer the infallible guardians that every child expects their parents to be. He had idolized his father throughout his childhood. What an idiot he had been. But he refused to let the past control him.

"And now Malfoy will present the patrol schedules for the week, as well as the results of our last meeting with the Headmistress."

Smoothly, he unfolded his arms and strode up to the front of the classroom. He presented the material quickly, and then asked for questions.

Neville Longbottom, the seventh year Gryffindor prefect since Ron hadn't returned, raised his hand.

"Can we restart Dumbledore's Army?"

The classroom was quiet before, but it was deadly silent now. All eyes were on Draco. Many of the students still did not trust him. He didn't blame them – after all, he did have the Dark Mark emblazoned on his left arm.

He showed none of his surprise, keeping his face expressionless. He had become very good at keeping his emotions and thoughts hidden – a skill that had been invaluable when standing in front of the Dark Lord.

"Why?" he asked.

"It was a great way for us to learn how to defend ourselves against the Dark Arts. It gave us practice outside of a classroom. And I think that those of us who fought can pass down a lot of knowledge to younger students," said Neville.

Draco nodded approvingly. Those were solid reasons. Neville had changed a lot from the insecure child that Draco bullied. The hard-faced young man before him had faced down his fears and become a strong and passionate leader.

"What do you think, Granger?"

Hermione stepped forward. "Let's vote. All in favor, please raise your hand."

Everyone raised a hand.

"All against?"

Everyone placed their hand down.

"Neville, since you suggested it, would you like to lead it?"

Neville nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

"Alright, I will bring it up with Professor McGonagall tomorrow and let you know if she approves," said Hermione.

They answered a few more questions, and then adjourned the meeting.

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He saw her studying in the library and couldn't resist. Quietly, he approached her from behind and leaned over her shoulder.

"What are you studying?" he hissed in her ear. His eyes roamed over the page she was reading. _Moste Potente Potions_ was the title of her book. It was a gruesome book, filled with dangerous recipes that could lead to even more disastrous results if brewed incorrectly.

To her credit, she didn't scream. She merely squeaked, and then turned to him, furious.

"How _dare_ you sneak up on me like that, Malfoy!"

Even then, her voice didn't rise above a whisper. She had an admirable control of her temper now, he noticed.

He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, pulling out his Potions textbook.

"Want company?"

She sniffed, and stuck her nose back in her book. "Not particularly."

Draco suppressed a laugh. Hermione was as feisty as ever. He flipped through his textbook to the section they were covering in class. While he could live comfortably off the vast Malfoy fortune for the rest of his life, he had returned to school because he had an interest in Potions. It had always been his favorite subject in school. He was determined to make an O on his N.E.W.T.s for Potions, and perhaps find a master potioneer willing to apprentice him.

Ah, finding someone willing to train a former Death Eater. That will be incredibly difficult. Draco pushed the thought to the back of his mind. One step at a time, he reminded himself. Get the Outstanding first, and then worry about the future later.

After about two hours, he leaned back in his chair and stretched. He checked his pocket watch – it was time to shower and sleep. Hermione was still buried in her book, furiously scribbling notes on a parchment.

"You did a great job today in the meeting," he said.

"Thank you," she said stiffly, not bothering to raise her head.

He decided to take a chance. "Will I see you tonight?"

She jerked up and looked at him. Her face was just as unreadable as his own as she replied, "Perhaps. If I have a nightmare." Then she turned back to her book.

_So she only wandered the school if she had a nightmare_, Draco thought.

He smirked. "Hope I scared you enough then."

He gathered his notes and textbook and left. She didn't even look up.

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It was four o'clock in the morning. Draco stood by the arched window, wondering if Hermione would show up again. He tried not to think about it too much, so that he wouldn't be as disappointed if she didn't come.

He shook his head. _Who am I trying to fool_, he thought to himself. _I will be bloody disappointed if she doesn't show. I'm damn lonely_.

Lonely. The word perfectly described his life for the last month. Hell, it described his life for the last year.

Slytherin was a naturally suspicious House, full of intrigue and cunning. He had enjoyed it before the war, wrestling his way to the top. But now, with many Slytherins with Death Eater relatives locked in Azkaban, the game had become much more dangerous for him. He did not trust anyone. Many wondered at how _his _family had managed to escape the wrath of the Ministry. And more than a few thought the Malfoys were traitors.

Which wasn't far from the truth, he supposed. Still, betrayal is better than ending up in prison. Or dead.

His two childhood friends were out of the picture. Crabbe was dead. Goyle had always hated school, and so did not return. Draco had no idea where he was now – probably in hiding. Or maybe he was also dead. He didn't care to know.

The other three Houses simply loathed Slytherins, especially after the rise of the Dark Lord. And, of course, there was the inconvenient fact that he had helped the Death Eaters take over the school and was a former Death Eater himself. So basically, the entire school watched his every move with suspicion.

Draco had never been under such intense scrutiny in his life.

On top of that, he was Head Boy. He had several good guesses as to why McGonagall had made him Head Boy. He was clever, having been ranked second in the class, only behind Hermione, before his hellhole of a sixth year happened and he dropped to third. While he had been a playground bully as a child, it was just a manifestation of his dominant personality and natural ability to lead. Draco also had an innate desire to succeed and always drove himself to perform his best. He was persuasive and charismatic when he needed to be. Evidently these were all qualities McGonagall was looking for.

Not only did he qualify for the position, but it would also be difficult for him to make trouble as Head Boy. He suspected that McGonagall wanted to keep a close watch on him. That was fine by him. He'd had enough trouble for a lifetime.

The final reason was that, conveniently, he was a Slytherin. McGonagall had worried about Hogwarts falling apart, since Slytherin had become so unpopular. Making him Head Boy was an attempt at improving relations between Houses. So far, it was working.

Of course, this just meant that he had better not fuck up.

From the window, he could make out the shape of the Quidditch hoops in the moonlight. He had loved Quidditch as a boy – but he had grown too tall and broad to play as Seeker. Perhaps he could have stayed on the team as Keeper or Beater. Still, he had many fond memories flying on a broomstick…

He sensed movement and turned, his wand raised.

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**No, they don't share a dormitory. I always thought that idea was silly. Please review, and thanks for reading.**


	3. Poisonous Toadstools

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am not making profit off of Rowling's amazing work.**

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"_Crucio_!"

Hermione woke up with a gasp. At least she hadn't screamed, like usual. She glanced at Ginny, who was still asleep, and then buried her head in her hands, trying to slow her racing heart. When she finally felt calm, she fumbled for her watch on her nightstand and looked at the time.

4:30 am. Vaguely, she wondered if Malfoy would be up. He _had_ asked her if he would see her tonight…

She threw on some clothes, not bothering with her robe this time. It was an unusually warm night, although it would probably turn chilly by Halloween. Before she left, she glanced in a mirror.

It had been a while since she last really looked at herself. Malfoy had been right. She looked like shit. Her brown eyes were dull, with dark rings under them. Her hair was frizzy and limp. She was pale, and too thin. Well, whatever. She pinched her cheeks and bit her lips in an attempt to get some color in them.

She didn't bother with the Disillusionment Charm this time. In the month that she had been wandering the halls, she had never once met a single person or ghost. Except Malfoy of course.

He was standing there again, in nearly the exact same position as yesterday. When he sensed her approach, he turned, his wand raised. When he recognized her, he stowed his wand away in his pocket.

He had also not worn his robe. It really was too warm today. He was still wearing his green and silver tie, though it was loosened, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, showing off the intricate pattern of the Dark Mark wrapped around his inner left arm. It was a faded red, almost looking like a burn wound.

Hermione's eyes were drawn to it. She didn't want to stare, but she couldn't look away. It was the symbol that she had lived in fear of for the previous year of her life. It was the mark of her enemy. She stepped close to him – perhaps a little too close – and gently reached for his left arm.

When she touched him, she felt him flinch. But he didn't jerk his arm back.

"May I touch it?" she asked. Her voice sounded husky. She looked up into his eyes, and saw them cloud over.

"Yes," he whispered.

She brought his arm up and gently traced the outline of the mark with her fingers. Then she ran her fingers over it. She was surprised to feel that it was just smooth skin, like a Muggle tattoo.

She noticed that his breath was coming faster. Standing this close to him, she could smell the clean, musky scent of his skin. It was intoxicating. Gently, she leaned forward, placed her hands on his chest, and tilted her head up. He placed his hands on her hips, bringing her even closer. He lowered his head.

He stopped before their lips touched.

"What are you doing, Hermione?" he growled, his low voice reverberating through his chest and her fingertips.

Hermione's eyes flew wide open, her mind in a jumble. She tried to pull away, but Draco's grasp around her waist tightened, holding her in place. His grey eyes were blazing with fury. She hadn't seen him so angry in a long time, and it stirred something inside of her as well.

"Get your hands off me," she snarled, struggling in his grasp. She wanted to grab her wand, but her arms were pinned against Draco's chest.

"Tell me what you're playing at," he replied, his tone just as furious. "Didn't you say you were still with Weasley? So what were you doing, pressing yourself up against me?"

Hermione spat in his face. He pushed her away so roughly that she fell onto the floor. She scrambled for her wand, but he already had his at her throat. Once again, his face was unreadable, but his eyes were burning.

"We aren't children anymore, Granger. It's time to grow up. _Legilimens._"

She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Her vision blurred. Image after image raced through her mind like a flickering film so vivid that it blinded her to her surroundings. She tried to fight his invasion of her mind, but he was unstoppable. She watched her own memories of the past few minutes flash past.

It may have been only seconds, but it felt like hours. She was lying on the floor, panting. Draco stood over her, offering her a hand to help her up. She refused it, instead choosing to clamber to her feet on her own.

"What did you do that for!" she hissed.

"Making sure you weren't under the Imperius," he said calmly. He was in total control of himself again, his eyes cold and dark.

"Is having someone being nice to you really that unusual?" she said, her voice dripping with venom.

"I wouldn't call what you were doing 'being nice'," he replied. His voice had flattened, returning to a politely disinterested tone. It pissed her off. She wanted him to be as angry as she was, and as flustered, and as hurt.

"Just you wait until I tell Professor McGona-"

"I think she'll agree that my actions were justified when she sees my memories of you practically begging to be kissed."

"I can still make your life a living hell," she said, coolly.

He raised an eyebrow as if he doubted her. "Why can't we just talk like we did yesterday?" he said.

"Fine."

There was a long silence. Draco was leaning against the arch of the window again, gazing out into the night. Hermione glanced impatiently at her watch. It was barely past five o'clock.

"Well? Didn't you want to talk?" she said.

"You haven't answered my question," he said. "What were you doing, trying to kiss me?"

"You couldn't get the answer from my mind?"

"I don't make a habit of practicing Legilimency. All I got is that you weren't under the Imperius," he said. Then he added lightly, "And you weren't thinking about Weasley."

Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes._ Why had she done it?_ Wasn't she the calm, collected, responsible one? Wasn't she the one with the brains, the girl who had helped defeat the most wicked wizard the world had ever seen? And wasn't she in love with Ron Weasley, Auror-in-training?

The answer flashed into her mind, although she tried to hide it from herself. She had been trying to deny it for months now. The war had changed her. It had taken away her sense of security and peace. She always felt like she had to be on the lookout for something, as if the world was about to collapse around her.

She had immersed herself in her romance with Ron, but after the rush of war, it had felt oddly empty. Once he left for Auror training, she had thrown herself into studying for the N.E.W.T.s, even before school started, in an attempt to fill the holes in her life.

But it hadn't worked. Nothing had worked before yesterday night. And it scared her that talking to Draco Malfoy seemed to be the solution to her problems. She had finally felt comforted and peaceful.

But she didn't know why she was feeling this way. Yes, he was attractive, but there were plenty of other good-looking men around school. All she and Draco had done last night was _talk_.

Would Draco understand if she explained this to him? Probably not.

And so she stayed silent.

Another long silence passed. This time, Draco was the first to speak.

"Just so you know, I don't go for sloppy seconds."

Hermione gasped. _How dare he!_

But before she could think of a response, he continued, "I don't like messing with another man's lady. If you want something to happen between us, then you must break up with Weasley first."

"Who says I want – " she started saying defiantly, but he turned his eyes on her. Though his face was unreadable, she could almost feel the coldness of his gaze.

Ah, right. She _had_ almost kissed him.

"What I meant was, I don't know if I want something to happen between us," she said.

He suddenly smiled, and Hermione almost fell over. The tiredness dropped away from his face when he smiled, and he was really quite handsome.

"Finally, an honest answer," he said. His smile faded as quickly as it had come. "I don't know if I would want that either."

Hermione felt an awful crush of rejection. Draco noticed her expression and quickly amended his words.

"Don't take it badly. You are smart and strong and beautiful. I just don't know if I want a relationship with anyone yet. Not just you."

She stared at him in shock. "Since when have you thought I am smart and strong and beautiful?"

He blinked at her. "Since, well, I don't know. Years."

"All I remember is you calling me a filthy Mudblood. Quite often, in fact."

"I'm sorry about that. I was an idiot."

Hermione was startled yet again. She had never heard him apologize before.

"You've changed," she said softly.

"It's called growing up," he replied.

Hermione didn't know what to think. She hadn't been happy when she found out he was Head Boy. She remembered too many instances where he had abused his power, first as a prefect, then as a member of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

Yet so far, he had been fair with the students. He did not play favorites, even with his own House. He had been remarkably trustworthy and responsible, taking his role seriously. Despite her past experiences with him, she was impressed. The man in front of her was a mystery, although she had known him for years. And he exuded a sense of confidence and danger that she found alluring.

She bit her lip at that last thought.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" she asked.

He tilted his head back against the window, studying her. "I like talking to you," he said. He was smiling again, as if reliving a fond memory.

She felt heat on her cheeks and wished that she knew a nonverbal spell that hid blushes.

"Are you saying we can be friends?" she said.

Although he was still smiling, his eyes flickered immediately to hers, and she knew that she had surprised him. "Perhaps," he said.

The light shining through the window was getting brighter. As the birds began singing to welcome the day, they went their separate ways again. Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower to freshen up before breakfast.

As she was adjusting her Head Girl badge, she heard Ginny stirring behind her.

"G'morning," her friend mumbled.

"Morning," she replied, looking at herself again in the mirror. She started fussing with her hair, and it was a few seconds before she noticed Ginny staring at her incredulously in the reflection.

"What?"

"Y-you…I haven't seen you messing with your hair in _ages_…Is there a boy, Hermione?" Ginny had a sly look on her face. Hermione giggled.

Parvati Patil looked up from her own dresser where she was putting on earrings. "There must be! Who is it?"

"No one," Hermione blushed. "You know that I'm dating Ron –"

"We also know you haven't spoken to my brother in months," stated Ginny.

"Oh hush," said Hermione. "Can't a girl want to look nice once in a while?"

"I bet it's Malfoy," said Parvati.

Hermione and Ginny turned towards her in horror and surprise.

"Just kidding," said Parvati, laughing at their expressions. "I hear that his heart is, like, made of stone now. Though he's definitely good-looking."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She shuffled out of the room with her toothbrush. Hermione made to follow, but Parvati caught her arm.

"I saw you and Malfoy in the library yesterday," she whispered. She gave Hermione a knowing look. "Be careful, alright? He acts nice now, but you know how he was before. Remember, poisonous toadstools don't change their spots."

Hermione nodded, and then stepped out of the room.

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**Thanks for reading.**


	4. Wingardium Leviosa

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am not making profit off of Rowling's amazing work.**

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Draco stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his tie. The castle had magically made the room smaller so that it felt cozier than he was accustomed to, since only three boys lived in this dormitory: Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and himself.

While Draco had spoken to Theo occasionally throughout the years, they had never become close. Theo's father had also been a Death Eater and was currently serving a life sentence in Azkaban. His mother had died years ago. Draco often saw the other boy staring jealously at the letters that he received from his parents. And so now, Draco kept a cautious eye on his fellow Slytherin.

Blaise's family had not participated in the war. Draco hadn't been close to him either; Blaise had been even more arrogant than him, and had always held himself separate from everyone else. He was clever and talented, having been the only Slytherin to be invited to Professor Slughorn's Slug Club. Unfortunately, Pansy had cheated on him with Blaise. Otherwise, Draco thought he was an alright guy, even if he had his head stuck up his arse.

Not that Draco could talk – he had been quite a jerk himself.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror, then headed out for breakfast. As he walked from the Slytherin Dungeon, his thoughts turned to Hermione.

_I must be really desperate to be fantasizing about a Mudblood_, he thought.

While he had been approached by a few girls, he had turned all of them down. It wasn't that they weren't attractive – Astoria Greengrass was actually quite a head turner – but he didn't dare to trust any of them.

At least not like he had trusted Pansy. Whatever her faults, she had been fantastic at keeping secrets. He would have trusted her with his life.

Does that mean he trusted Hermione Granger? He certainly felt _something_ for her. Just thinking about her had his heart beating faster. And when that blush had crept up her cheeks, he had wanted to just slam her against the wall and ravish her right then and there.

Hell, he had wanted to ravish her the entire night. Too bad she was taken.

He almost wished that he had let her kiss him. But when he had thought that perhaps she was thinking of Weasley, blind rage had overcame him. And he had performed Legilimency because he had to know – was she thinking about Weasley at all?

He was pleased that she wasn't.

He hoped that she would break up with Weasley soon. Hermione hadn't seemed very enthusiastic about their relationship. What kind of boyfriend didn't contact her for months? If he were in Weasley's position, he wouldn't have cared how difficult Auror training was rumored to be; he would have spent at least a few minutes a week writing a damn letter. How hard could that possibly be?

He sighed inwardly as he sat down for breakfast at the Slytherin table. Even if she broke up with Weasley, there was no way he could ever get together with her. It was completely unimaginable. They had hated each other for the last few years. He hadn't even thought about her romantically until she had almost kissed him.

And so, he firmly placed her out of his mind. He had other, colder dreams to pursue.

He spent most of his morning poring over Arithmancy charts, and then spent his extra time reviewing Charms. After lunch, he went to the Headmistress' office for their weekly meeting.

Hermione was already there, chatting casually with Professor McGonagall.

The Headmistress looked up and smiled at him. "Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy, please take a seat. How are you?"

He nodded politely. "Very well. Yourself?"

"Good, good. Let us begin. Reports?"

Draco spoke first. "The prefects have seen nothing unusual. They have all been very responsible. We did as you suggested and have placed prefects from different Houses together during their rounds. No one was opposed to it, so perhaps inter-House unity is improving.

"Some of the new prefects are a bit trigger-happy with deducting points, but I gave them a warning during our meeting yesterday. I also suspect that they will settle down as the year goes on. Otherwise, I haven't noticed any abuse of power. Granger?"

Hermione took over, "We did have a few questions in our meeting yesterday. Neville Longbottom would like to restart Dumbledore's Army as an extracurricular club dedicated to Defense Against the Dark Arts. What are your thoughts, professor?"

McGonagall approved of course. They discussed a few more issues that the prefects had brought up, and then the meeting was over.

Draco glanced at his pocket watch. He still had an hour until Potions class with Slughorn, which meant he could get in a little more Charms practice. Lost in thought, he held the door open for Hermione.

"Thank you, Malfoy," she said.

He nodded.

He wandered to an alcove next to the Potions classroom and sat down. He pulled out his quill then started practicing nonverbal Charms.

_Wingardium Leviosa!_, he thought.

The quill drifted up. As it floated towards the ceiling, he noticed a pair of brown eyes watching him from across the hall.

The quill dropped to the floor. _Fuck_. Why was she watching him? Even if they had Potions together, it didn't mean she had to follow him here.

His lips tightened. Well, at least this would be good practice for performing under pressure. He kept his eyes firmly on Hermione's as he directed his wand to the quill again.

_Wingardium Leviosa!_

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the quill flutter, but it didn't move. He grit his teeth, not letting his gaze waver from Hermione. It took a full minute before he managed to get the feather drifting towards the ceiling again.

He directed the feather towards Hermione. She sat stoically as it drifted over her face. But when it started tickling her nose, she couldn't help it and sneezed.

Draco laughed and his concentration wavered. The quill fell into Hermione's lap. She glared at him, though her lips twitched as if she were hiding a smile. With a flick of his wand, he directed the quill back into the air.

While maintaining the Levitation Charm, he tried to perform a nonverbal Color-Changing charm.

The feather burst into flames. Aghast, he watched as bits of soot fell to the ground.

Hermione burst into laughter. She flicked her wand, and a quill drifted from her own bag, towards him.

He pretended to glare at her as he directed his wand towards her quill and tried again. This time, the quill turned emerald green. _Whew_. He wasn't sure how she would have reacted if he set her quill on fire as well.

Hermione snorted, and with a flick of her own wand, the quill changed to crimson red. Draco grinned. He summoned his extra quill from his bag.

And so they sat, silently flying multi-colored quills around the hallway.

"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley called out, walking down the hallway. Her eyes landed on Draco and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Hermione hastily changed her quills back to their natural color and stowed them in her bag. Draco leaned back against the wall and continued to practice nonverbal charms with his quill, spinning it in cartwheels. He kept his eyes on the two girls across the hall.

"What were you doing with _him_," Ginny hissed.

Draco stared at the redheaded witch, making it obvious that he could hear every word. She stared right back, as if daring him to speak up.

"Malfoy and I just came from a meeting with McGonagall," Hermione said, smoothly, "and we were practicing Charms before class. Speaking of which, did you receive the invitation for Slughorn's Halloween party?"

"Yeah, we can bring a date, right?" Ginny kept her gaze on Draco. "Since Harry can't come, I think I'm going to ask Neville. Did you get an invitation, Malfoy?"

Draco's quill began sparkling strangely, and he hastily canceled his Charm.

"No," he replied coldly.

Ginny smirked at him. "Of course. I don't think Slughorn likes to associate with former Death Eaters."

His gaze hardened and he stood up. "What's your problem, Weasley?" he said, his voice dangerously low.

She jumped to her feet as well. "Maybe Hermione can't see what you are, Malfoy, but I know that you haven't changed, no matter what _anyone_ says."

He towered over her, but the fire in Ginny's eyes made up for her lack in height. He was breathing heavily, trying to keep control of his temper.

"Ginny! Draco! Back off, now, both of you!" Hermione cried. She stood in between them, wand raised. Her eyes were blazing almost as brightly as Ginny's.

Draco blinked slowly as he returned to his senses. He loosened his grip on his wand, and stowed it in his pocket. As he turned, he realized that other students had arrived for class and were standing around them, watching warily. A few had their wands out.

_Thank Merlin I didn't do anything_, he thought. He probably would have received all the blame. After all, Ginny was the girlfriend of the _amazing _Harry Potter. A swell of bitterness rose up inside of him, but he hid it behind the emotionless mask he usually wore.

Damn Hermione, making him let his guard down. He had felt comfortable with her, feeling free enough to tease her and laugh with her. As if they really were friends. And for what? To be mocked by Ginny Weasley.

In that moment, he made up his mind. He would stay away from Hermione, and force her to stay away from him. They could work together without being friends. After all, hadn't they done so perfectly well for several weeks, before their ill-fated meeting two nights ago?

The students filtered into the classroom. Draco took his seat on the Slytherin side, next to Blaise. The Italian, characteristically, ignored him.

He paid strict attention during class as Slughorn described the principles of brewing Blood-Replenishing Potion. When told to begin brewing, he and Blaise worked smoothly together, barely talking. He resisted the temptation to glance at the Gryffindor side, where Hermione and Ginny were paired together.

When class was over, he grabbed his bag and headed to the library to do some homework.

He had barely sat down when someone pulled out the chair next to him. He spun to snap at the person, but stopped when he realized it was Hermione.

* * *

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	5. The Library

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am not making profit off of Rowling's amazing work.**

* * *

Hermione could barely focus during Potions. When class was over, she followed Draco to the library. She pulled out the chair beside him. He spun around, clearly irritated, but fell silent when he saw her.

"Want company?" said Hermione, sitting down.

"No," he replied tersely.

When she started pulling out study material from her bag, he stood up to leave. She stood up as well and grabbed his arm. He looked at her coldly.

"Let go of me."

"We need to talk, Malfoy," she said.

He tore his arm away from her grasp. "No, we don't."

"What Ginny said isn't true. You _have_ changed," said Hermione. "Please, let's talk."

"I would rather not. Leave me alone, Granger." His voice was like ice. He started walking away.

She desperately searched for a way to make him stay. Their budding friendship was so fragile that she knew if she didn't talk to him, then whatever they had between them would soon be destroyed. And she wanted more moments like the night when they had talked for hours, like when they had sat flying quills around the hall – more moments where she felt relaxed and calm and completely herself.

She didn't want to let him go. And so she said the first thing that came to mind.

"Will you go to Slughorn's party with me?"

He spun around, but she was not prepared for his response. In two long strides, he was suddenly standing very close to her, looking down at her, his face contorted with fury.

"What the hell, Granger! Didn't I just tell you to _leave me alone_? Or do I have to spell it out for you?"

He pulled his wand out, and wrote in blazing golden letters in the air.

"Leave. Me. Alone."

"No!" she cried, forgetting that she was in the library. "Malfoy, I'm serious!"

"So am I," he replied. There was a chilling glint in his eye. "Or do I have to remind you," he said softly. He gestured with his wand towards the floating golden letters.

Hermione's eyes widened in horror as the words shimmered and contorted to form another word - a word she was very familiar with.

_Mudblood._

There was a buzzing in her ears. She could barely see through the red haze of her rage. She pulled out her wand, but before she could hex him, someone ran around the corner.

"Hermione? I heard you yell," Neville said. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. "_Expelliarmus_!" he cried, pointing his wand at Draco.

Draco deflected the spell with a wave of his wand. He replied with a blast of red light, and Neville dodged out of the way. Draco's spell hit the bookshelf, and it fell over with a crash, books tumbling to the floor.

Hermione cast her own nonverbal spell. Draco barely ducked in time, while throwing hexes back at the two Gryffindors.

"STOP! STOP!" Madam Pince, the librarian, came running, but the three dueling students paid her no attention. She waved her wand helplessly, unable to stop the three talented and battle-hardened students.

Then Professor McGonagall arrived, cast a spell, and Draco, Neville, and Hermione found themselves frozen in place, unable to move.

* * *

"I am ashamed of both of you," said Professor McGonagall. She was more furious than Hermione had ever seen. Her hat sat crookedly on her head, her eyes were nearly bugging out with fury, and the vein at her temple was threatening to pop.

Hermione hung her head. Her foot tapped nervously on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco sitting rigidly in his seat, his eyes cold and hard, and his face expressionless.

"Mr. Malfoy, I expected you to take your appointment as Head Boy as a chance to prove yourself," the Headmistress continued. "Some of the other professors opposed your appointment, but I felt that you were perhaps a victim of events outside of your control. I thought I had seen great potential in you, Mr. Malfoy. You know better than this. Shame on you for calling Miss Granger that _despicable_ word. You had been performing so well, too."

"And you, Miss Granger, after he told you to leave him alone _multiple times_, could you not get the hint?"

Hermione flushed bright red. It had been so embarrassing, explaining how she had asked Draco to go to Slughorn's party with her - and his rejection. She felt incredibly miserable.

"You, the brightest witch of your age, should have known better. No matter what provoked you, you should not have behaved so childishly. As Head Girl, I expected you to set an example for your peers. I cannot _believe _the two of you would embarrass yourselves like this."

Professor McGonagall glared at both of them.

"Since you have been doing such an excellent job thus far, I will merely assign both of you detention every evening for the next two weeks. However, if either of you step out of line again, then _both _of you will be removed from your positions. Do you understand me?"

Hermione jumped up in horror.

"That's not fair!" she cried. "What if he –" she pointed at Draco, "– gets himself into trouble? Why should I be punished –"

"That's enough, Miss Granger!" shouted Professor McGonagall. She stood up as well, looming over Hermione. "Then you will both just have to help each other learn to control your tempers. Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am," said Draco, his tone flat, almost bored. But his eyes were flashing as if he were trying to bore a hole through a wall with his gaze.

Under Professor McGonagall's glare, Hermione sullenly nodded. "Yes ma'am."

By the time they got out of the Headmistress' office, they were late for dinner. When they entered the Great Hall, it seemed as if the entire school fell silent to stare at them.

Her face burned. Hermione walked quickly to her seat next to Ginny. Her friend looked at her worriedly.

"Are you alright, Hermione? That evil git! The next time I catch him alone, I'll make him wish he _never_ laid hands on you –"

Hermione cut her off. "No, please Ginny, don't provoke him. If he gets in trouble, then I'll be punished too."

She explained McGonagall's threat.

Ginny's eyes softened. "Alright Hermione. I don't want to get you into trouble too."

From his spot across the table, Seamus Finnigan leaned forward and said, "Did you _really_ ask Malfoy out?"

Every student at the Gryffindor table turned to look at Hermione. She buried her face in her hands. _Please, let this just be a bad dream…_

From behind her, a voice answered.

"She did. And I accept."

Hermione whirled around and gaped at Draco. The Gryffindor table exploded with murmurs as people gasped and pointed at them.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I came to apologize, but it looks like I saved you from severe embarrassment. You owe me. And remember what I said about Weasley."

Hermione wanted to scream, but then she saw Professor McGonagall watching them from the High Table. She balled her hands into fists, took a deep breath, and gave Draco a tight-lipped smile. He straightened up, nodded politely at her, and walked away, hands casually thrust in his pockets.

Half the school eyed him as he returned to the Slytherin table, wondering what just happened.

Ginny looked livid, but she didn't speak. Instead, the redhead turned pointedly away and started shoving food in her mouth.

* * *

They stood in the middle of the seventh year girls' dormitory, glaring at each other.

"What about Ron!" Ginny yelled.

"Aren't you going with Neville? This is the exact same thing!" Hermione yelled back.

"No it isn't! I'm going with Neville as a _friend_. But Malfoy isn't the type to treat you like a _friend_."

"What are you implying?" Hermione snapped.

Ginny snarled, "I mean that he's going to want more. Like snogging!"

"Me? Snogging Malfoy? You're insane!"

"No, I'm not! I saw the two of you before Potions today. It was cute. _A little too cute_. I'm guessing you didn't see the way he was looking at you, huh?"

"We aren't like that!"

"Better not be. I won't have you breaking my brother's heart," Ginny hissed.

The door to the dormitory burst open.

"HERMIONE!" Parvati screamed, as she rushed in. "I can't believe you and Malfoy –" She paused, seeing Ginny and Hermione's expressions. "Er, I'll leave the two of you alone," she said meekly, and then backed out of the door, closing it behind her.

Hermione pressed her hands to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. She recalled Draco's words: _If you want something to happen between us, then you must break up with Weasley first._

His meaning was all too clear. Although he had accepted her date, he would still refuse to go unless she broke up with Ron.

"Ginny?" she said cautiously.

"Hm?"

"How should I break up with Ron? By owl?"

The redhead girl screamed. "WHAT? How long have you been cheating on my brother?"

"Never!" Hermione cried, insulted. "I just don't think I want to be in a relationship with him anymore!"

Ginny stamped her feet on the floor in frustration. Then she groaned.

"I understand, Hermione," she said miserably. "It really has been too long since Ron has contacted you. At least I get letters from Harry once a week. I think breaking up by owl would be fine. How else would you reach him?"

Hermione nodded, tears coming to her eyes. Ginny noticed and stepped forward to hug her.

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what," she murmured, as Hermione sobbed into her shoulder.

"T-thank you, Ginny. I'll always b-be here for you too. Y-you know I love you."

"I love you too."

When Hermione calmed down, she sat down and started writing.

_Dear Ron,_

_I will always care about you as a friend, but I don't want to be in a relationship with you anymore. We have not spoken in over four months. Frankly, I think our spark has fizzled out. I hope training is going well. I am so sorry._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

It sounded stiff. But Hermione couldn't bring herself to write more. Her heart was squeezing painfully in her chest. She rolled up the parchment, and then left for the Owlery.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**


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